


Memories

by Ailette



Category: Mr. Brain
Genre: Imported, Kimura Takuya/Sato Takeru's characters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukumo remembers - for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set during episode 5 of Mr. Brain - because it completely broke my heart. Probably won't make much sense unless you've seen it.  
> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/72623.html)

He’s staring at the music sheet forlornly, wondering. Masaru’s sister sent him a recording of Masaru playing this with a copy of the original sheet and a small note from her attached. ‘He always smiles when he plays this,’ it says.

With a heavy sigh, he reaches forward to hit the play button on Kanda’s stereo. There are footsteps to be heard and he has to smile; this is definitely a homemade recording. When he closes his eyes he can see Kanagawa-san quickly walking back from the recorder and sitting down in one of the white armchairs – yes, there’s a quiet squeaking noise. But then, his mind’s eye turns toward the piano when the first soft notes float from the speakers around him.

The melody starts gently, but the tempo soon quickens; like a beating heart. He can see Masaru bend over the piano, smiling as he plays with his eyes closed. He wonders if Masaru can really remember what this piece of music means, what happened to make his heart beat so fast, when he closes his eyes.

The melody evens out, slows down as the notes become a little deeper, more sensual somehow. And he, sitting in his colleague’s office in the dead of night, remembers exactly what circumstances gave birth to this song.

He’s placed a stool next to Masaru’s, sitting directly next to him as the young man plays. It’s one of the songs - the memories - that were stolen from him. Tsukumo had come over to give them back to him, explaining only a little – but Masaru’s face had lit up as he saw the scores and had vanished inside. For a moment, Tsukumo had hesitated at the door, but when he heard the first few notes sounding from the living room, he’d stepped inside.

Masaru’s playing was beautiful, even to him that much was obvious. But the knowledge that those were feelings, emotions – that Masaru had found a way to preserve his memories against all odds and even was able to share them with others in this fashion; it fascinated him more than anything.

The piece he was playing right now read ‘2007.05.06’ at the top and from the notes he remembered the scribbled sentences that summed up that day. ‘ _Went on a walk. Rain. Sun. A rainbow_.’

He might have been able to see the rainbow if only he closed his eyes and concentrated solely on the music, but instead he was watching the young man next to him, engrossed in his music to the very last note. He was still smiling when he turned, but jumped slightly when he saw Tsukumo next to him.

Whether it was because he’d forgotten the scientist’s presence or because of the close proximity, Tsukumo couldn’t tell.

“You’ve got a remarkable brain,” he said earnestly, unable to stop staring at him.

The startled impression slowly slipped back into a smile and Tsukumo realized that Masaru hadn’t forgotten about his visit just yet after all. “I could feel you next to me while I was playing,” Masaru said softly, answering the question Tsukumo hadn’t uttered out loud. It made him smile.

“The contact must help you retain the present,” he nodded.

“Mh,” Masaru said, still looking at Tsukumo with his big eyes. He hadn’t shied away from him, Tsukumo realized. They were still sitting nose to nose, barely a few centimeters between them. People usually either jerked away from him when he got close, or got right back in his face, angry. A calm reaction like this was… unusual.

He cocked his head a little, wondering if he should ask Masaru about his reaction and then test it on others. Yuri reacted somewhat similar, only a little more flustered. He got distracted when Masaru made another small noise and looked back up to meet his eyes again. The younger man also inclined his head, slowly leaning forward.

_Oh… that’s why_ , Tsukumo thought as their lips met. It was a slow kiss, languid and as if they had all the time in the world. Tsukumo reached out a hand to gently cup Masaru’s cheek and tilt his head back a bit to slide his tongue into his mouth. One of Masaru’s hands had wandered up his chest, coming to rest right above his heart.

“It’s beating so fast,” Masaru murmured, his cheek still resting in the palm of Tsukumo’s hand, eyes half closed as he looked at the older man.

“I… haven’t kissed anyone in a long time,” he said quietly. “I didn’t see why I should.”

“I see,” Masaru said, like he really did; like he perfectly understood the weird mess that was Tsukumo’s life before – and now. “I don’t think I did, either.”

Maybe he did.

He watched silently as Masaru began scribbling down notes, one arm around the younger man’s waist and his head resting on his shoulder the whole time. He was half afraid that he was hindering him, but Masaru smiled and said to stay where he was. They both knew this was stolen time, a moment he was writing down for forever to preserve it but would never be able to truly live again. It was only a moment and neither of them wanted it to end.

But of course, it did end, eventually. Masaru’s sister arrived and Tsukumo left, his heart breaking a little when he heard the soft melody float out from the house as he got into his car to drive away.

Around him, in the here and now, the music comes to an end and the footsteps come closer again to shut off the recorder. Tsukumo feels his eyes water, but doesn’t bother to wipe them. One of them should remember that wondrous moment.

He holds the copy of the sheet music up again and a little smile steals across his features. There’s the date, the scores and, at the very bottom of the page, a hastily scribbled, ‘九十九‘.

(九十九= 9 10 9 = Tsukumo)


End file.
